Say It Again
by Nicole-Cherre
Summary: Very short, super sweet moment stolen from the pair... I'm sure I'm not the only one that did this


Say It Again

How could she possibly be disappointed . . ?

She'd gotten everything she'd asked for . . . and more . . .

She'd fallen for him. Honey to the bee, that much was obvious to anyone who knew Rose Tyler.

For all of her scant nineteen years, she knew herself better than most teens. She'd known death, devotion, disappointment, delight, desperation and the determination of those with the strength to survive. Her dad had passed when she was baby, her mum had to do what she could to take care of her, it was only when Rose could start working that they were finally able to be comfortable. Love was never hard to find, Mickey had doted on her since she started dying her hair bottle blonde years ago, surprises found them, her mum had been absolutely bewildered by the brilliant red bicycle that showed up that Christmas. But finding anything that lasts was only a dream. Everything disappeared, everything left eventually, or things just changed.

So change she sought. She never kept a job too long, never even considered going to University, nothing that would tie her down not Mickey, not even her mum.

But she wasn't stupid, not by any means. When she stumbled into that strange man who just grabbed her hand in the basement of Henriks and said '_Run_' as they were being chased by bloody livin' mannequins! She'd done her research on him, she wasn't about to get swept off her feet for just any ol' toff that saved her life. Not Rose Tyler.

How could someone so constant exist? The one man that was impossibly everywhere throughout the history of the world, he was forever and yet could never be- Her excuses not to go with him her perfunctory, he knew it looking at her and she knew it sayin' it.

So grabbing his hand and running into that bright blue box had changed her life and she never regretted a single step that brought her closer to him.

Having seen his face before a hundred times in paintings, photographs, sketches, statues, heard his name in reels, poetry, website clips. She'd seen him, she'd known him before she decided to go with him. His faces, his expressions, the turmoil, the guilt, the isolation, the distraction and amusement, haughtiness and pity.

Only she hadn't realized it at the time, that wasn't his only face . . .

When she had found him, or he her, he was nine lives into his dozen. He had nothing left to live them for; he was distraught and utterly alone. And she'd saved him. Rescued him from his cynical, self-loathing misery. Returned him from his self-inflicted hell to the light of life- And she stayed with him every moment through every racing heartbeat to remind him.

And yeah, from the first go 'round, he might have struck her as a missing father figure, she wasn't blind to obvious psychology. He was someone who needed taking care of, someone to look after. Someone who would shelter her and show her a grand new universe beyond anything she'd ever see in London or Britain or this tiny little planet earth. For all that, all she needed to do was soften him, remind him of how to be humane again, to be someone who needed _his_ protection. To remind him that life didn't end because one planet dies, even if it _is_ your planet.

Then when _he_ saved _her_ life for saving his . . . when he _regenerated_, she knew he must have had some modicum of control because he had changed everything for _her _. . . A more perfect fit could never have been engineered. His foxy looks, his _great _hair_, _his one-eighty to optimistic and curious attitude, his fiery, questing personality, all youth and smiles and . . . love. All to compliment who she had helped him become. She blamed everything he was, his gob, his infectious smiles, his Cheshire arrogance, on herself. And gladly took credit for it all!

But when he changed, she'd been betrayed . . . And it took her longer than she'd ever admit to get used to this achingly familiar stranger with his slightly creepy hand. She was afraid he'd be _too_ different, _too_ changed, his feelings reversed, his kindness, his whole-hearted devotion to life, his pity for all beings beneath, Rose included- She was afraid it would change, all of it . . . It was so scary, always wondering if he'd suddenly change his mind about her, or his flighty new mile-a-minute life was slowed down by having her with him. Waiting for the door to close on her, for his 'I'm sorry . . .' He was a perfect being now, if a still a little conceited and rude and oblivious. He didn't need her now, never nearly as much as she needed him. But what if he did something . . . Something so weird, so off-the-wall unexpected and it was too much for her to cope with, to handle after everything else changing what if he had changed just a little _too_ much?

Then it would all end. Her incredible adventures woulda been finished. And he would be alone, perhaps not ever knowing he was alone. And so would she . . . but she would know it deeply, profoundly.

But it never happened. And she fell in love with him again.

Harder, faster, further than ever before. And it never needed to be said between them that he felt that same dependence on her. She had come to realize in her travels with him, that some things could never be said, that _he_ could _never_ say again after all he'd been through. He'd lost more than she could ever imagine and had lived with that loss longer than anything else ever lived. To expect her ease with words from him was beyond even this great Time Lord's abilities.

She knew, she would always _know_ but, she was human and validation in some form is necessary after a time. Hand-holding, the brush of fingertips through hair, the rare peck on this cheek or forehead . . . he never discouraged her but without ever going too far he reciprocated- then before they knew it they were crying for each other, separated for ever. And she had always known what he was going to say, she prayed she did anyway- But she would wake up from nightmares of him finishing that eternally hanging sentence with '_Rose Tyler . . . I'm so sorry.' _or_ 'Rose Tyler . . . I'll miss you.'_

But she'd seen him cry. For _her_. For the loss of her. And she knew he could console himself with the fact that she was alive, miserable but alive, but he still responsible for her situation. She knew he would blame himself.

So she had to find him.

She'd come _so_ _far_, travelled across universes, blew holes in the dimensional fabric of other worlds just to find _him,_ to be with _him. _Her Doctor_._ The worlds were collapsing, one after another, each timeline cut short around that special girl and she realized it was only through her that she'd be able to reach him. Cause she'd been looking so hard, she'd called for so long her voice was hoarse, sobbed until there wasn't an ounce of strength left in her. She had _search__ed_ so desperately for him- The only one who could help her save the universe, _again_- the Doctor- But if she found him- what if this all turned out to be her fault? What her haphazardly punching through alternate universes in her quest for him was what caused the ever spreading darkness?

How could she face him . . . if it was all her fault? The love of her life, the light of hope in all the worlds- finally find him but only at the moment of the end- For her to bring such news- to remind him of the horror and inevitability of the big bad wolf- What should be a reunion of ecstatic delight, of _timeless joy_- as . . . the Harbinger of Death- _how c__ould__ that be_? How can that ever possibly be?! What cruel gods would give her the only thing in all the universes that she wanted only to destroy the universes for her achieving it?

But life was tough and unfair, but after all she'd been through, the unreality of the last two years, physically, mentally, spiritually nothing in hell would stop her now!

So she shouted his name and she tested every chance to bring her an inch closer to him; looking around every corner, in every shadow, at every disaster in every world. She shouted his name when he could never hear her, her voice somehow silenced, and she was always a moment too late. And as she walked away, faded like a ghost for another world, that which he said could never be done, walking the worlds, traversing universes that never should touch yet she glided through, searching for him, they missed each other- always too far, always not quite there, always behind him when he never turned around. She screamed, begged, pleaded with his image blinking away before he saw. Growing ever more desperate as the line of worlds disappeared, faded from reality, exploding in premature destruction, but now he was more than just her only love, he was her last light, her last hope- and she kept racing just a step behind- Waiting for him to _see_ her, to _save_ her, _his_ Rose.

And so it was the will of that little human girl Rose, that would save the universes in all their multiple forms. So long ago, a child, grown in the shortest time to a wise and disenchanted woman, desperate for that fairy tale to end, for the doctor to heal, the Doctor to save, _the __D__octor_, for him, her Doctor . . . To save her from the end of the universe.

And then against all odds, it happened. She finally found him. She was able to track him down, help bring him to this stolen earth and punch through another spatial barrier to land just a few dozen meters from him. From one end of the street to the other, the distance had never been so close and never ever so vast! She caught the ginger hair of Donna, that brave, brilliant woman smiling, even at that distance, she had seen the recognition. And the back of his head had never been so sexy, so real, so close- and then he turned and the world stopped. She could feel her heart beat, she knew she was supposed to be breathing but she couldn't remember how- it was almost finished, she as here and here he was, and how desperately she had missed him this last two years-

She was running for him before she realized he was running for her too. She'd never run so fast in her life, and she'd never seen him book it like he did even when Cybermen and Daleks and all the villains of the universe were chasing him-

It hurt too much to think of what happened next but somehow it worked out. He didn't change on her again, not after she finally found him, but he betrayed her all the same. By accident or design, he had created a clone of himself, one to save us all in the nick of time. But the clone was too rash, too desperate, and . . . he was . . . too human.

He was identical to him, same face, body, memories, craziness if a bit more rude and brazen but they were painfully, heart-wrenchingly identical. It wasn't fair!

She'd gotten use to his double heartbeat, checking the echoing thud when he was hurt or unconscious, panicked when she realized she could only hear one- She'd gotten used to his unending energy, his heat, his alien-ness. She'd accepted the fact that she would grown old and he wouldn't. She'd come to terms with that and the fact that there could never be a normal life with him- she didn't even know if they would have been capable of children someday, but she'd made herself acknowledge and endure those facts and unhappy possibilities.

And here was him. But they couldn't possibly be the same, somehow she was being jipped, duped, forced to take a lesser copy of her beloved!

But the human him- how could she possibly ignore the practicality of what he offered her, knowing that she couldn't really ever have _him_. She only realized this now; he had known it all along and had been too kind to let her know. He had saved her for the rest of her life, but that still meant that _he_ was still alone . . .

How that wound would haunt her . . . Even the girl she never met, Martha, never even _heard_ of, had known her instantly and intimately without introduction. The moment she spoke her name Martha's reaction was one of almost awe and left no doubt she'd definitely heard about her from the Doctor. He'd spoken of her, and highly of her from that look, and Martha's words filled her with a warmth that had her grinning like a madwoman. '_He finally found you._' So he'd been searching too.

And yet, here he was leaving her again, having given her what he thought she needed when what she really wished was for _his_ loneliness to end, not hers. She could live without him, not happily, not ever, but she'd have been content if he wasn't still the Lonely God.

. . . perhaps, after all these years, it wasn't that fate always dealt him the short end, but perhaps, he made it that way, what if he truly _preferred_-

Either way, she couldn't have him, no one ever could again. But chance, or the last Time Lord, had created the ideal alternative. 2nd best to having him, a god unto himself, was the human version of a god. The same man only diluted with his single heart beat, his precious ability to age and be relatively normal- and his one redeeming skill above this Lord of Time's- his ability to speak.

Rose held his soft hand, palm pressed to palm, her head resting on his chest, memorizing the new sound of a single heart thumping this strange same body. Without lifting her head, she spoke, a glow in her eyes as she watched her fingers twine with his. "Say it again?" She asked.

She felt his chest shift as he tilted his chin down to look at the top of her blonde head and chuckled. "Again?"

"Please?" She traced her finger along the lines of his hand, hazel eyes lifting in the briefest peek to meet his before shyly glancing away again.

She could feel him grin, and his gentle voice rose in a firm declaration. "Rose Tyler, I love you. More than anything." She listened to his solitary heart take up a faster rhythm, smiling quietly and tightened her grip on his hand.

"Quite right, too . . ." She whispered, mimicking his slight Scots accent. She yawned, her wandering hand finally rested above his heart, his arm wrapping around her slight form as she fell deeper into the most comfortable position she'd ever discovered. If she listened hard enough, when they were this close, she realized the double heart beat that had always been him alone before was still there but it was both his heart and hers. And perhaps that was what she had always waited for . . .

"Say it again?"

"_Oi_, Rose . . ." She felt him despairingly shake his head as it rested on hers.

"Oi back, it's been two years of you leavin' me hangin'. You've got two years of m' nightmares to make up for- 'Rose Tyler, I . . . I'm sorry,' or 'I'll miss you,' or 'I'll never forget you,' or 'I wish you the best-'" She didn't want to raise her voice but even speaking softly her voice cracked, and eyes pricked with tears at the awful memories of those agonizing dreams.

She felt him shiver slightly, his grip on her growing desperately tight for a moment, driving the deep-seated torment of those nightmares away. She could feel the same ache reverberating in his soul, perhaps he too had had nightmares of their last goodbye. "Rose, Rose, Rose. Darling Rose. My perfect Rose." His head lowered closer to hers to tenderly whisper those blessed words in her ear as sincerely as he had on the beach before his counterpart, unable to be silenced by his Time Lord half anymore. "Rose Tyler, my most beloved, I love you."

She sighed, and lifted her face to meet his, kissing him again and again before resting once more against his chest. "I love you too, so much."

"I know . . ." He murmured into her hair.

"Then say it again?"


End file.
